Thank you, Hiramys, for giving me ten thousand talking points today that arenotmy career or the tabloid coverage wondering how long I’ll keep Cooper around once I don’t have the excuse of our schedules to keep us apart.
I’ve spent a grand total of fewer than two weeks total with him in person since we ran into each other again in March, but we’ve texted and called each other so much that I feel like he’s both been by my side this entire time, and also like he’s been living on the moon.
Calista laughs. “That’s Betty Bite. She’s big and trouble. She’s the best. But don’t leave your…unmentionables…where she can get them. Or your vintage record collection. But if you have a weird gift from that relative that no one talks about that you need to dispose of in an innocent way, Betty Bite has your back.”
“Is Betty Bite what really happened to that full-size Beck Ryder pillow that Levi Wilson got for Christmas?”
She makes a terrible poker face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I would never have loaned my dog to a pop star so that he could innocently dispose of a terrible gift from an underwear model.”
The audience laughs.
“Speaking of Levi, I hear he has opinions on you having a boyfriend for the first time since your big break-up,” she says.
The audience goes apeshit crazypants like all of these teenage girls love Cooper as much as they love me.
And honestly, who wouldn’t?
He recorded a podcast with Brené Brown that aired last week, and if I wasn’t head over heels for him before hearing him talk with her about how important failure is to success, I would’ve been now.
Also?
Yes, that was totally me arranging it. No regrets.
Cooper might be a goofball, but he’s also grounded. He prioritizes what matters, and he understandswhyit matters, and he recognizes that when people are given the freedom to be who they are and thrive without having to make excuses or justify their choices,thatis when magic happens.
But we have an agreement, and I’m sticking to it as much as he did on the podcast.
We’re not discussing our relationship in public.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t joke about it.
“I mean, Levi’s a man?” I shrug. “He has a lot of opinions on things that are out of his control.”
“Oooh, snap with the comeback about men!” Calista cackles. “So there’s trouble in paradise for you and Levi Wilson?”
“Oh, no. Not at all. We adore each other.” I launch into a story about how Levi’s girlfriend’s kids’ pet squirrel almost got itself a starring role in our collaboration video, which I have full permission to share from my dear friend who called me last week and told me he never would’ve picked Cooper if I’d asked him if he had any friends I could date, but that I couldn’t find a better guy who’d be a more committed partner if I contracted the most brilliant geneticists in the world and asked them to create him in a petri dish.
And then he’d addednot that you need my permission. But you have my and Ingrid’s support on whatever you need.
My nerves are fading as I get more comfortable in the chair, so when Calista asks if I’m up for taking questions from the audience, it’s an easy yes.
It’s always an easy yes, even if I’m still feeling the nerves.
“Hi, Waverly,” the first audience member says as she approaches the microphone in the aisle. She’s probably nine, maybe ten, with white skin, freckles, braces, and a quivering voice. “I’m—wow, I love you so much.”
I smile at her. “Aww, you are too sweet. What’s your name?”
Her chin wobbles. “Yolanda,” she whispers.
“Hi, Yolanda. I love your glasses. Those are super cute.”
She touches her glasses and beams. “I love you,” she says again. Her mom nudges her, and she takes a huge breath that the mic picks up, and I want to hug her and promise her I’m a normal girl too.
“How do you sing for three hours straight without having to pee?” she asks.
“Yolanda,” her mom whispers while the rest of the audience laughs.
“Oh my gosh, that is thebestquestion,” I say. I drop my voice. “Wanna know a secret?”
